THE HIGH WAY IS HELL
Challenge: Include a classic rock title or theme. Dean's really not enjoying the boys' latest job ... so he takes matters into his own hands.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and this is a source of constant frustration to me!
That's right, freakin' Gargoyles.
Fug-ugly little granite sonsofbitches who clambered down from the top of the cathedral spire at night to attack passers-by.
And therein lay Dean's problem.
The cathedral spire. Top of.
A gut-clenchingly, ball-droppingly long way from the ground.
Burrowing grimly against the tower's weathered facade like a growth of lichen, Dean squinched his eyes closed as another bout of vertigo gripped him, turning cartwheels in his belly.
This royally sucked ...
Sam heard the receding clatter of heavy workboots against a steeply spiralling staircase.
"Sammy, change of plan; I'm gonna wait at the bottom, and gank the little bastards as they ramble on down."